Where The Wind Is Cold
by Forfearoffools
Summary: This is the tale of the dovahkiin, Adiisa Dagmaer and her adventures in the beautiful but dangerous land of Skyrim.
1. Prolouge

Hello there, friends. I am pretty excited about this story. It is my first fan fiction and I decided to share it with you all. It may contain spoilers for those who haven't advanced in the game as much as others. I decided to start off my fan fiction at a later point in this dovahkiin's tale, but will continue with explaining her start in the vicious and psychically demanding terrain, Skyrim. (I do not own or claim to own any of Bethesda's wonderful creations, I am only a humble admirer.)

Here is a short overlook of the main character.

Adiisa Dagmaer is a Breton with honey blonde hair and onyx eyes, she is 5"1. Most of her opponents underestimate her on her stature, but she silences their mockery with a quick slice of her dagger. She takes pleasure in ending lives. She has a sharp tongue and loves to make fun of others. She has few friends, no lover, and takes residence in the Dawnstar sanctuary.

Enough rambling, please enjoy my story and give your feedback of it.

Where The Wind Is Cold. (Prologue)

She brushed a strand of hair back from her eyes as she aimed a small iron dagger at the limp man hanging from the rusted shackles on the wall. With her target set, she flicked her wrist and sent the dagger across the room. A nice thud followed by the scream of her victim was heard throughout the sanctuary. Laughter rang out as she and the fool of hearts enjoyed their evening of torture and despair.

"Oh, what fun! Ooh, but I must go tend to mother. I hope she isn't angry with me. Cicero must go!" Cicero leapt up and rushed out of the doorway as if his hat were on fire.

"Don't forget to get her hard to reach places!" Adiisa yelled out, mocking him as she usually does.

"Cicero NEVER forgets, listener! You tease me so!" Cicero cried out across the sanctuary.

Adiisa snickered, she loved it when he became defensive. She was glad she let him live, he was her closest friend. Sometimes she wished for more, but the poor fool was so caught up with the night mother that he would not even accept such a plight as love. It didn't make her upset or lose her focus, she was fine as long as he was still Cicero. So many people change during these time, but he was unfailing.

"Cicero, if you don't hurry up with oiling mother. I'll tell her about the book!" Adiisa teased him as she left the torture chamber, the pleas from the remaining victims was heard as she began up the stairs .

"That IS NOT Cicero's book! Just more of your dirty tricks! Mother knows Cicero speaks the truth! He would never have that… Filth!" Adiisa rounded the stairs, Cicero's face was red like a ripe tomato.

"Oh calm down, Cicero. I would never tarnish your reputation with mother, even if you became curious and read a certain book." She winked and placed a kiss on his cheek, taking him for surprise.

His face distorted as he wiped his face furiously, trying to remove the invisible kiss. His face still glowed brightly as he pouted and continued his daily routine. She snickered once again before trotting to her room and gathering supplies for her latest contract. She sighed, it was another contract to kill a jilted lover. They seemed to be on the rise lately. Cicero walked into the room, his scowl had returned to his usual bright twisted smile. He did his usual dance and bowed down with his arm extended.

"Cicero would be most happy to accompany the listener. " He looked up and grinned. She smiled and shook her head. He knew that his smile melted her frost ridden heart.

"Oh, I suppose. Oh, Cicero my dear! Our target seems to be an Argonian maid, I know how much you enjoy them!" Adios chuckled as Cicero crossed his arms and huffed at her latest jab at him. Once again, Cicero and the listener were on the hunt.


	2. Chapter 1

AN: Here is the first chapter of Where The Wind Is Cold. We will start at the beginning of Adiisa's story. I hope you enjoy my fan fiction. Don't forget to give feedback, I need it. Yet again, I don't not own or claim to own any of Bethesda's work, I am just a fan. Please enjoy.

Where The Wind Is Cold. Chapter 1

There she was, a child again. Her younger self seemed so foreign to her, so innocent. She was running through a field, from whom, from what? Her doll clutched in a vice like grip as she pushed the tall blades of grass out of her way, fear sprawled across her face. She fell upon the ground and began to crawl, looking for a safe haven of a sort. A clearing appeared in front of her, 'this should be a safe place to hide'. She could hear her child form's thoughts, but hide from what? Questions ran rampade through her head as she watched. A dream? Or maybe it was a memory? Adiisa clutched Amerose, her prized doll and her best friend, against her chest. Everything grew silent as the young Adiisa sat eerily still, trying to stay quiet from whatever was chasing her. She stared out at the field, the wind caressed the grass making the field look like an ocean with crashing waves of breath taking shades of green. Lavender, she could smell lavender and fresh flowers. It was so peaceful, and even somewhat enchanting.

A roar broke the silence as paws wrapped themselves around the young Adiisa, a scream erupted as she went into panic. Then laughter, from her younger self and another being. A small khajiit jumped from the wall of grass, he was slightly taller than the young Adiisa. He was shades of light tan, gray, and black. His tail swayed in a playful manner as he walked around her, his arms crossed behind his back as if he were a general of a great army addressing his men.

"I believe Baadargo won, Little Adii." He looked at her triumphantly as her younger self pouted.

"You won because I let you, Baadargo. But, you did win… Are you ready for your prize..?" Young Adiisa smiled and stood up, her cheeks turned a violent red. What was she doing? Who was Baadargo?

The young Adiisa brushed off her dress and stood in front of Baadargo, he looked as though he had lost a portion of his confidence by now. She had to stand on the tip of her toes to look him in the eyes. Baadargo's eyes were a brilliant orange that faded in an even brighter yellow, mesmerizing herself completely. Adiisa closed her eyes and leaned forward, placing a kiss on his nose. She shyly wrapped her arms around his neck and placed her head on his shoulder, sighing contently. His fur was soft on her cheek and warm. Baadargo's arms reluctantly found their way around her waist, a soft purr coming from his chest was heard as they embraced.

"My Adii." He whispered to her.

So they were childhood sweethearts, she had almost forgotten. It seemed like an era ago, but the memory had finally returned to her. She could feel warmth in herself, again. Something she hadn't felt since that day. She was twelve years old, at her old farm house in High Rock. Baadargo lived with his mother in a trading caravan that came around every couple of days, selling odds and ends to the tiny village. He was a year older than her, but that did not matter. He was important to her at that time in her life. Neither riches, nor fame clouded her mind, just Baadargo. She returned to her happy memory, she could feel herself smiling in her sleep.

Her happiness was short lived, as another Breton pushed through the tall grass. He furiously pulled the two apart before standing in front of Adiisa. He was much taller than the both of them and looked a year or two older than Baadargo. He had short honey blonde hair and vicious hazel eyes. His features looked similar to hers. Adiisa grabbed his arm to attempt to calm him, but he pushed her away. Tears spilled from her eyes as she hit the ground. Baadargo reached out to help her before the Breton boy pushed him back. Before Baadargo could regain his balance, the boy punched him in the stomach, making Baadargo fall the ground in pain.

"Veric, stop!" Adiisa's screams echoed out.

She awoke to her body covered in sweat and her heart beating like it was trying to push its way out of her chest. She had nightmares before, but this was something worse. It was too real for her, too painful. Why did she have to remember? After she had calmed herself, she looked at her surroundings. It was a small dark room, cobwebs hung about the ceiling and dust littered every surface. The bed she was in smelt like wet skeever and was just as dirty as the rest of the room. She scowled and decided it was time to get out of this filthy place.

It only hit her after she had picked herself off of the bed, she growled in pain. Her whole body felt sore, especially the back of her head. Nothing stretching won't help, she thought to herself. She couldn't have been more wrong. She sat herself back on the bed and tried to massage the back of her skull. A hatch opened up over an old worn ladder as a tiny girl peeked down.

"Hadvar! Your friend is awake. Maybe now she can tell us about the dragon!" Adiisa growled as her head throbbed. She never liked children, so loud and obnoxious.

"Dorthe, don't pester the poor girl! She's been through enough already, let her join us when she is ready." An older woman scolded the girl, probably her mother.

Adiisa recognized her voice but her head was too full of fog to even consider the possibility of remembering. She reluctantly made her way up the ladder. The aroma of apple cabbage soup filled her lungs, causing her mouth to water. She felt like she hadn't eaten in a fort night. The older woman, Sigrid was her name, was preparing the evening meal. Sigrid looked over and smiled at Adiisa, making her feel uneasy.

"Alvor was worried you weren't going to pull through. He said he was surprised someone as small as you could make it through a dragon attack" Then it dawned on her, a dragon stopped her execution.

She was trying to cross the border to get away from some of the bandits she was running with. She had only taken her share of the coin without telling anyone, it's not like they would care. She was wrong, as she usually was. They chased her for three days before she finally lost them, but two months with those creeps and she knew they wouldn't give up. Her only option was to leave the province completely. Before she knew it, she was being bound. The next moment went blank. After she had woken up from her unconscious state induced by the fist of an imperial, she found herself in the company of three filthy Nords. Two of which wouldn't stop their insufferable rambling about Nordic things she had no interest in. In the next few moment she found herself laying on the block as a hefty headsman raised his axe in the air. A flash of black dashed across the sky, the next f feeling was of blood rushing through her veins as she made her way through a burning town.

"Are you okay, dear? You look as if you've seen a draugr." Sigrid's voice brought her back to the present. Adiisa feigned a smile and nodded. She found herself a seat as a bowl filled with one of her favorite dishes was placed in front of her. Maybe some food will help her sort everything that had happened out.


	3. Chapter 2

AN: Here is the second chapter of Where the Wind Is Cold. I noticed my stories are slightly slow, so I would like to explain myself. I want to make this fan fiction sort of expansive and full of nearly everything that has happened to Adiisa. I've actually taken to playing Skyrim when I lose inspiration for Adiisa's story, and with every quest I complete with Adiisa is just more I plan to put in the story itself. I know this chapter was a tad bit jumpy, but I wanted to make another chapter quickly before I didn't have time to. I can't thank you enough for reading my fan fiction. I would like to say again that I don't own or claim to own any of Bethesda's creations, I am just a fan. Please enjoy.

Where The Wind Is Cold. (Chapter 2)

After she had plumped herself up with warm apple cabbage soup, she sat down and tried to make sense of what happened. Dragons, dirty Nords, and Imperials with a grudge, she must be in Skyrim. Adiisa never cared for politics, at the most she found them humorous. She did remember hearing about the stuffed up Imperials fighting Stormcloaks, which where some sort of Nord rebels, in Skyrim. She only knew so much of the frigid land, but most of it was hushed rumors designed to scare people away from crossing the border in the first place. Though from what has happened in her brief stay, she wasn't so sure it was all lies. The only thing she knew for a fact awaited her outside of the small cabin was the harsh winds and freezing temperatures.

As she stepped outside, shivering was instantaneous. Even though the grass was green and flowers were in bloom, she felt neck deep in ice water. Around the corner, Alvor was using the forge creating various weaponry. The fire was enough to convince her to engage in conversation, even though she dreaded being around other people. She rounded the corner and neared the forge, it warmed her up enough so her teeth would quit clanking against one another. Alvor looked up and chuckled deeply at the sight of Adiisa nearly clinging to the forge for warmth.

"Don't despair, you get use to it eventually. You'd be better off if you had meat on your bones." Alvor shook his head and chuckled more at her unfortunate situation, eliciting a scowl from Adiisa.

Alvor seemed to take pity on her, as he handed her a few hides and leather strips. She scrunched her nose at the smell of the animal skins. It smelt worse than the bed she had been sleeping in.

"Do you know how to make hide armor? If you need help I can…" Adiisa quickly interrupted him.

"Of course I know how to. I may seem foolish to you, but I know how to work a forge. I don't have to be a Nord to know how to make novice armor. I prefer leather than hide, you do have a tanning rack, I presume." Alvor smiled and pointed to the rack at the end of the porch. He seemed to appreciate her vicious attitude.

It took two days for her to complete her full leather armor, it took another day to improve it to her standards. She had made a small fortune working for Had and Gerdur, chopping pieces of wood and helping around the mill. She even helped that arrogant boy Sven weasel his way into some woman's bed. In between making her armor and working at the mill, she found that helping Frodnar improve his pranks to be enjoyable. Stump seemed to take a liking to her also. Even though she never really enjoyed the company of people, she liked sitting around with Frodnar's pup. He was such a sweet creature, always blissful. She had envy for creatures, they found more to enjoy on Nirn then she could spend lifetimes searching for.

It had been nearly a week before her boredom reached its peak. She reluctantly made her way into the Riverwood trader. She heard harsh voices as Camilla and Lucan argued about something, causing Adiisa to become curious. She entered the Riverwood trader as Lucan was forbidding Camilla to talk about whatever had triggered their disagreement.

"Oh hello. Don't worry, the Riverwood Trader is still open for business. The thieves only took one thing…" He drifted into thought as Adiisa hatched a plan.

"You were robbed? Perhaps I can help, for a price. What did they take again?" Adiisa faked a smile as she normally found herself doing around others.

"An heirloom. A golden claw, I'll be willing to pay you if you find it. I heard them talking about Bleak falls barrow. Camilla can show you the way" Adiisa wasn't overjoyed about plunging into some Nordic burial ground, but it was better than chopping wood or conversing with townsfolk.

She stopped by Alvor's home to suit up in her armor and put her steel daggers in their sheaths. She was ecstatic about finally being able to coat her new leather armor in blood of the unsuspecting thieves. As she walked towards the bridge with Camilla, she found herself full of anticipation. She hadn't killed anyone in what seemed like an eternity. She sometimes found herself repulsive because of how much joy she took in ending lives. Maybe it was their faces when she took the final blow, or how warm the blood was on her skin. Or maybe something simpler, to have the power to take something so precious away from somebody. It was pure irony, ending lives made her feel more alive.

She listened as Camilla explained which road to travel to the barrow, what to expect to find inside and to stay safe. Camilla took Adiisa by surprise, planting a soft kiss on her lips before heading back to town. Adiisa stood in shock before shaking it off and making her way up the winding road. She laughed at her endeavor with Camilla. Sven, that poor fool chasing after a woman who didn't even care for him. Love is a fool's game where there is no victor.

She was halfway up the mountain and the only thing attempting to slaughter her were a few hungry wolves. She made sure to gather their pelts so she could improve her armor. While she was arranging her pack, she heard a voice in the distance. She grinned deviously, for the poor sods just told her of their location. She rounded up the mountain to a tower, filled with the unsuspecting bandits. She crouched down, taking cover behind whatever was available. Three bandits stood around talking about their latest crimes, she was tempted to run towards the three and quickly dispatch them. Yet she waited instead, she wanted to take her time to enjoy her kills. Two of the bandits returned to the tower, leaving behind one man. It was time for her to strike. She unsheathed her blades and crept towards the lone bandit. Her heart began to race as she neared him. To her dismay, he turned right before she could thrust the blade into his back. His neck would be just as well.

She smiled as she left the tower, blood dripped from her forehead. She had to admit that the last bandit had some fight in her. She wiped her forehead with her leather bracer as the coin in her pack made a satisfying jingle. More voices were heard as she neared the barrow. More bandits that she quickly killed with a few arrows and her daggers. After she was done looting the corpses, she found herself at the entrance to the barrow. It gave her chills, this place was not meant for the living and she knew it. Yet she still had a task to be done. She entered the barrow as two bandits argued over their share. She drew her bow and her smile returned.

She panted as she found solace hiding behind a huge urn. She swore she had seen every sick thing in Skyrim by now. Dead Nordic warriors roamed the halls of the barrows. She pulled a potion from her pack and quickly ingested it. She checked the pack for the golden claw to make sure she hadn't lost it in the scuffle with the Draugr. After making sure everything was in order, she sat back and caught her breath. She had no idea if they were still searching for her.

A loud crash startled her as an axe cut through the urn, smashing it in pieces. She swiftly rolled away from the Draugr's next strike. She unsheathed her daggers and took his left hand off, attempting to slow him down. It did nothing but enrage the undead Nord as he sliced towards her again, this time knicked her shoulder. She bled heavily as she ran, trying to find a way to harm the beast. She noticed an urn hanging from the ceiling above a pool of oil. She leapt and cut the rope, she barely made it out of the way before the flames consumed the Draugr. There were four of them now, burning to a crisp. She laughed as she felt triumphant for defeating them. Before she even had the chance to gather herself, a pair of rotten hands made their way around her throat. She struggled as she tried to remove the hands squeezing the life from her. They didn't budge, so she made a split second decision before her dying breath. She reached for her dagger and plunged it into the Draugr's gut. She fell to the ground, gasping for air. That was the closest she had come to death since she had first started travelling.

She had no time to sit around and marvel at her near demise. She scouted the area before she began reading Arvel's journal. It mentioned the Hall of Stories located deeper in the barrows. It didn't take long before she found herself battling more Draugr. She kept her focus and studied their weaknesses. She found poison and fire to do the trick. Thanks to that damnedable giant spider, she had enough poison to cut through nearly a dozen Draugr. She eventually found the Hall of Stories, it was quite wondrous. She knew nothing of Nord tradition, but at one time Nords were quite intelligent and honorable. Nothing like the filthy sods she has come across. She found her way to a door, it looked like a puzzle. Three symbols had to match up to a distinct pattern then use the dragon claw as a key. It seemed easy enough.

After re-reading Arvel's journal, she found how to solve the puzzle. As the door opened, it lead into a huge chamber. She cautiously made her way into the chamber, after she determined it to be safe. There was a monument at the end of the chamber, Adiisa was drawn by it. She found herself standing in front of the stone studying the strange text. It seemed familiar to her in an odd sense, it chilled her bones. She suddenly found that one of the words glowing. She nearly fell onto the ground as the word seemed to become absorbed by her. She knew the word and what it meant, force. She was terrified, for the first time since she could remember.

A thud as the coffin behind her opened itself revealing another Draugr. This one seemed stronger than the others. She ran towards him, impaling his shoulder with her dagger. It did nothing to the Draugr who quickly slung her back. She cringed as she hit the wall, but quickly got on her feet. She ran forward again and sliced for his throat, the draugr blocked her attack. She stumbled back and ran after him again. She blocked his attack with one of her daggers and shoved the other deep into the Draugr's chest. She ended up on her back after the draugr use some sort of magic using his voice. She stood up slowly, but found it difficult as she was in incredible pain. She had enough, she rushed towards him with her dagger and thrust up into his chest. He became still and she removed the blades as the Draugr's body fell limp upon the ground.

She fell to the ground and rested before returning to Riverwood. Cuts and bruises littered her face and body. Dried blood caked her face, yet she couldn't have been more satisfied. She had survived when most would have perished. She felt her heart fill with pride as she picked herself off the dirt covered floor. As she made her way out of the Barrows, she made a promise to herself. That she would face danger like this every time she had the opportunity to. It did not matter that she didn't like mankind, they still needed help. Who else would risk their lives for them? Her promise to herself was bittersweet, just as life is. Helping those she cared nothing for, risking her life for them. It was sweet irony that she quite enjoyed. The self satisfaction was worth the risk, she had done many things she was not proud of but she felt it was time to be proud of something for once.


End file.
